The Bath
by Titch360
Summary: It is well known that Damian has a soft spot in his heart for animals. The feeling is not always mutual. Drabble/ fluff One-shot


The Bath

It was almost 11 at night when Alfred made his way back into the cave for his usual cleaning rounds. Tonight, he chose to start with the trophy room. That room usually took the longest to clean, and he wanted it done before the dynamic duo returned from their patrol. They had left an hour before, while Alfred was finishing cleaning up the kitchen after the family's late dinner. Dinner had gone smoother than usual tonight, a pattern Alfred had noticed over the last week. The whole house had been more subdued lately. Alfred almost missed the death threats and the sounds of the boys chasing each other, closing in for a kill, or at least a fight. He did not, however, miss the messes that inevitably followed their mischief.

Alfred smiled softly as he looked at the row of former costumes. It always amazed him how small Dick's first Robin costume seemed now, compared to the man he had become. It also made him a bit sad to polish the case with Jason's old Robin costume. Even though he was alive and mostly well, living in Crime Alley, Alfred always thought the boy was a lost soul that should have had more time with them. He decided he would make Jason some cookies tomorrow and make a special delivery, just to make sure Jason was taking care of himself.

Alfred's cleaning routine in the trophy room took far less time than it used to, now that Bruce insisted he stop cleaning the giant penny. Cut the routine time in half, in fact. At first, Alfred had not understood, until one day he found Tim and Damian polishing the penny after one of their more intense arguments. Now that it was used as a punishment for misbehavior around the manor, the penny was looking quite dirty. It only took a couple of polishings to realize that getting along was better. Since he had started noticing the penny punishment, Alfred had heard many arguments settled by one or the other saying 'penny'. He also noticed how upset the arguers would become if Bruce was the first to say 'penny'. When Bruce said it, it meant that no matter who started it, or how many of them were involved, all took part in the cleaning. Alfred had even seen Jason down in the cave, polishing the penny once, after arguing with Tim during one of his all-too-infrequent appearances at a family dinner.

Alfred left the trophy room and made to sweep the Batmobile turntable when the sound of an approaching engine caught his attention. It was too high-pitched to be the Batmobile, leading Alfred to assume one of the boys was approaching. The appearance of a single headlight confirmed his guess. He waited for it to come closer to see which of his adopted grandchildren was about to brighten his evening.

It was almost the last one he expected to see at that time of night.

Damian parked and dismounted his R-cycle and approached Alfred, a look of extreme distress and annoyance marking the boy's young face. Damian stopped, still a ways away from the elderly man, and looked like he didn't want to get any closer. Alfred opened his mouth to ask the boy what was wrong and why he was back so early, when a slight breeze came through from the cave mouth and explained everything.

Damian didn't want to get any closer to the man because he had been sprayed by a skunk. The strong stench wafted over Alfred, making him want to cover his nose before making him want to vomit.

"Oh dear, child. We will have to take care of that right away, won't we?" Alfred was all business as he approached Damian. He could see a look of embarrassment covering the boy's face. Alfred got as close as he could without retching, and knelt down in front of the boy. "I know just how to fix this. You take your uniform off and leave it there, while I get what we need. Meet me in the medical bay as soon as you can and we will get this taken care of."

Damian didn't say a word as the old man went off to gather supplies. He couldn't say much anyways; the skunk had got him mostly in the face and neck, and he thought he might throw up if he opened his mouth. He was very grateful that Alfred had demanded no explanation, but had gotten right down to business. It was embarrassing enough getting sprayed, but the old man had a way of making him feel better.

Damian stripped off his mask, thankful for the lenses that kept the spray out of his eyes. He followed that with his cape and hood, boots, tunic, and pants. It didn't help that it was a windy night outside the cave, and a constant, light, cool breeze was blowing over his back. Damian was shivering by the time he got to the medical bay. He idly wondered as he walked deeper into the cave, what was this magical remedy Alfred had for a skunk spray?

The smell arrived in the medical bay before Damian, but had dissipated enough for Alfred to know that his uniform had taken the brunt of the spray. Alfred looked towards the door and stopped the boy with a shake of his head. "No, child, I said everything." Damian was still wearing his boxer briefs, socks, and, for some reason, his gloves. _The gloves are an odd thing to keep on_ Alfred thought. Damian nervously did as he was told, unsure if he had ever had reason to be naked in front of the older man before. Damian then remembered that the old butler had treated any number of wounds to his body, and relaxed some. He approached the man, still shivering in the cold.

Alfred was pouring a red liquid into a metal basin from many metal cans. The tub was about three-quarters full when Alfred stopped and beckoned the shivering boy forward. Damian took a couple steps forward and Alfred noticed how small the ten year old looked, but something else caught his eye. Was the boy scared?

"What is that, Pennyworth?" Damian thought the liquid looked almost like blood, but the consistency looked off. The smell was different, as well. Tangy, but not unpleasant.

"Why, it's blood, of course." Damian gasped and took a step back. Alfred smiled at the shocked expression and quickly assured his young charge. "Tomato juice, dear boy. It has properties to take the stench from your body. Quick, into the tub. Sorry it isn't a claw foot Victorian, but it should do for the task at hand."

Damian's bare feet touched the bottom of the metal tub, causing another shiver to crawl up his back. Alfred waited for another second before smiling at the boy, placing a hand on his shoulder, and forcing him to sit fully in the tub.

"My boy, this will go much easier, and quicker, if you sit down and let me work. While I do, why don't you tell me how this happened?" Alfred asked.

Damian related the whole tale to the old butler. Batman and Robin were investigating a shooting in an alley. They were able to find all the bullets, but were missing a casing. Damian had noticed several kittens and a mother cat hanging around the alley and had an idea that maybe one of the cats had moved the casing. Bruce thought the theory didn't hold water, but Damian investigated anyway. He saw a tail vanishing behind a trashcan and slowly moved the can to find the cat. What he found instead was the business end of a skunk, which had immediately sprayed him. Damian had cried out in shock and fell back. Batman spun around at the sound of his son crying out and saw the skunk running away. He tried not to laugh, _Batman doesn't laugh, even when something is this hilarious, _and kept his distance while ordering Robin home to get cleaned up.

Alfred, wearing gloves and holding a washcloth, knelt down next to the tub and began to scrub the boy as he related his story, from the top of his head to the bottom of his feet. Then, for good measure, he started at the top again, with a fresh washcloth, working his way back down, front to back and top to bottom. Then, for extra good measure, and hopefully to cheer up the disappointed looking boy, or at least change the look on his face, Alfred grabbed Damian's head and held it under the tomato juice while he scrubbed the boy's face and hair with yet another fresh washcloth.

Damian came up sputtering. He hadn't been expecting the full body dunking. "Go ahead, my boy. Stand up." Damian stood in the tub, letting some of the tomato juice stream off his body. Alfred smiled at the red-stained boy in front of him. "That should do it, young sir. Go ahead to the showers. You will find a towel and clean pajamas waiting for you." Damian jumped out of the tub and scampered off to the locker room, leaving a trail of red footprints behind. Alfred smiled at that, even though it meant more cleaning for him. Dick would be disappointed that Alfred had not taken pictures of the tomato-colored boy, but he thought Damian would not appreciate reliving this experience. However, he did take pictures of the trail of small footprints heading for the showers.

As Alfred was finishing up disposing of the tainted tomato juice and washing out the tub, Alfred heard the Batmobile pulling into the cave. He approached Bruce at the computer. Bruce looked weary, but somewhat satisfied, his usual look after successfully solving a case. Bruce had already taken off his cowl as Alfred approached, not looking at the elderly man when he asked, "Did he make it back alright?"

"Yes, Master Bruce. He has been properly juiced, and should be finishing his shower by now." As he spoke, Damian padded out of locker room, still toweling his hair dry.

He looked at his father with surprise. He hadn't expected him home so early; it wasn't even midnight yet. "Did you catch him already, father?"

"Yes, we got lucky tonight. Found the criminal three blocks over trying to commit another robbery. He's on his way to jail now."

Bruce finished his notes, saved and closed his file, and got up from the computer. He approached his son, placed his hands on either side of his son's face to hold his head steady, bent down and sniffed deeply at his son's head. Damian had no idea what he was doing, until Bruce walked away. "Good job, Alfred, you got all the stink. Smells good, almost like pasta. Alfred, do we have any spaghetti? I could use a snack."

**A/N: Just a little drabble. Why can't everyday life occurrences happen to superheroes? Why can't Batman get a cold, or Superman have to use a port-o-potty to change his costume, now that phone booths are all but non-existent? Hero stories date back to ancient times, why do they have to be heroic all the time? I guess this is a little bit of the "Incredibles" philosophy. These characters we love are more than just a mask and a cape, which is why sites like this one exist, so those of us who love these characters can tell the stories that the gatekeepers don't, because they may not sell. I think I would buy a lot more comic books if more of the stories could deal with adjustment to everyday life, and not the next battle every month.**

**As always, and paraphrasing from Sgt. Shultz: I own nussink! (For those out there that don't get that reference, you make me feel older than I really am. And I don't own these characters or make anything from the stories I write, other than the smile it puts on my face.)**


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